Fast Food Fiction
by YunCynImaginator
Summary: The Rikkai, Fudomine, Hyotei and Seigaku tennis teams go for a meal at various fast food joints. And one restaurant. Crack ensues. Seigaku updated.
1. McDonalds: Rikkai

Hi. We're collaborating. Again. (This one was done by Imaginator.)

Enjoy...oh, wait.

1) We owneth not POT.  
2) We owneth not any mentioned fast food joint/ restaurant.  
3) We really REALLY like FAST FOOD. NO offense and really, fast food is GOOD. Do not believe any POT character and whatever we have mangled them to say.  
4) NO, no one was fired/took a job leave when we wrote this.  
5) No, we not stupid. We just bored. Or cracked-up, take your pick.  
6) NO, we do NOT take responsibility for brain breakage.

Okay, now on to the fic.

Fast Food Fiction: Rikkai

Sanada glared at his Styrofoam cup with the glare that had felled so many before it. In fact, if it wasn't made of Styrofoam, undoubtedly it would have collapsed on itself by now, or be burnt with so many holes it'd be a wonder if it could hold anything after it was through.

Fortunately, it _was _made out of Styrofoam, and so placidly bore the brunt of Sanada's death glare as the stoic fukubuchou narrowed his eyes at the steam emitting from the cup.

He had ordered _tea._ This…this liquid tasted anything but.

Pulling the teabag out of the cup, he scrutinized it carefully. Perhaps it was not even tea leaves in there, but synthetically-modified substances created by people like Renji who grew up into those scientists who just couldn't not interfere with experimenting on perfectly good tea.

It wasn't even as if he were demanding for Oolong or anything. They could've at least produced something preferably more tea-like.

Yanagi noticed the black stare and smiled serenely. "The chances that you would regard your drink that was highly probable." He reached into his bag and pulled out a small box with an elaborate label on it. "So I took the liberty of bringing along some green tea, just in case."

With a small nod, Sanada accepted the small box, and began scooping out the powder into his cup. Renji averted his attention to Niou, who was meticulously creating a miniature of Tokyo Tower out of French fries, ketchup and the occasional nugget in strategically placed areas. Yagyuu on the other side of him was placidly eating the rejected fries that were deemed too soggy to be used in construction and sorting out the remaining ones on the table.

"Hmm…I've never observed you to be so into architecture, Niou."

"Oh, I'm not," Yagyuu casually answered as he elbowed Niou and passed him a handful of fries.

"But I am. Ah, thanks." Niou carefully balanced another fry on top of his structure before cementing it with tomato sauce.

Meanwhile, Jackal was watching in trepidation as Marui and Kirihara stuffed sundae after sundae into their mouths, looking for all the world like overgrown hamsters, albeit jacket-clothed ones with red and black hair respectively. "Hey, watch it; are you sure you guys can _breathe_?"

"OFH KOUFRSE VE ANNNN!"

"KOOOOOOLD!" Marui's eyes locked with Jackal's; despite the stinging cold of the dessert stuffed in his cheeks, he was beginning to sweat. "Wfo wheenin?"

Jackal looked over the stacked cups. "I'm afraid Akaya's one up on you at the moment."

Marui's eyes glazed over for a few minutes before it hardened into that intense concentration Jackal knew all too well. _Uh oh…_

On the other side of the table, Sanada had made a new discovery; apparently brown tea and green tea were never meant to be mixed. He pushed himself up from the table, and everyone froze; even Marui and Kirihara. (Which wasn't a pretty sight, considering they had strawberry and chocolate dripping down their lips.)

"I need hot water."

The sound of food dropping simultaneously predicted foreboding as the fukubuchou strode over to the front counter and got into line. They stared at Sanada for a bit.

"Should we?..."

"I highly advise against interfering. It will be better to letGenichirou handle this on his own."

Yanagi's word was pretty much law, so the Rikkai regulars silently wished the cashier on duty good luck before returning to their own activities.

"By the way, Kuwabara…perhaps it'd be best for you to…go and get more sundaes to restock Marui's and Kirihara's match, ne?"

Jackal caught Yanagi's eye and groaned internally. What did he do wrong to deserve this?

Nodding morosely, he got up and stood in line behind Sanada.

-

The lady at the counter beamed at Sanada. "Welcome to McDonald's. May I-"

"I would like some hot water. Please."

She blinked at the stern face towering above her. "O-kay…will that be all?"

A brief nod. She filled a cup full of hot, steaming water and brought it back to him. "So that is all-"

"May I see what type of tea you serve to customers?"

"…I'm sorry, could you repeat that again?"

Behind his fukubuchou's solid figure, Jackal resisted the urge to facepalm. Sanada calmly placed his tea on the counter and gestured minutely at it. "Please, feel free to have a look."

The cashier peered into the cup and bit her lower lip. "Well, uh, sir, I'm sure our tea isn't quite that…_murky_ shade…"

"I'm aware of that. But considering that I had to add green tea to your establishment's choice of tea only serves to prove that this place provides inadequate tea for the customers."

"Excuse me?-"

"Genichirou."

Sanada paused mid-reply and swung to face the door as a figure entered, silhouetted against the light as it shone around him like an aura of divine serenity.

Jackal sighed in relief as Sanada uttered the name of the person aloud. "Seiichi."

Yukimura walked up to the counter as people stared at him with awed eyes. The radio's speakers suddenly played Handel's Messiah and Niou dropped a fry.

Smiling gently as he approached the counter, Yukimura placed a firm hand on Sanada's shoulders. "Here, Genichirou, I brought this."

Taking the Thermos Seiichi offered to him, Sanada uncapped it, allowing a fragrant scent to waft through the air. Sencha. A small smile crossed his face for the first time that morning.

Yukimura then turned his attention to the cashier, looking more than a little confused and bedazzled by the gentle smile flashed in her direction. "I would like to place an order for apple pie, please?"

"Yukimura-buchou," Jackal muttered quietly but fervently, "that was brilliant timing."

Yukimura smiled calmly. "I'm sorry I couldn't have gotten here earlier."

As the three of them walked back towards their table, Yanagi looked up. "Ah, Seiichi. The bus was late?"

"It broke down mid-trip." Yukimura slid into the small booth next to Sanada, who was savoring his tea, before glancing in the direction of Marui. "What happened to him?"

"Brain freeze. He won't be happy to know that Kirihara won, when he wakes up."

Yukimura's smile didn't waver. "And Kirihara?"

"In the bathroom. I believe the top half of his mouth went numb."

"Ah. Very nice structure, by the way, Niou."

"Thank you, Yukimura." Both Yagyuu and Niou replied in unison, grinning simultaneously.

And thus, peace reigned in the presence of Yukimura and everyone was happy.

That is, until Kirihara came back from the bathroom and face-planted right into the Tokyo Tower, but that's a different story.

_owari_

A/N: Sencha is a type of green tea.


	2. Burger King: Fudomine

Updating this. (Yuncyn's turn this round.)

Just in case again:

1) We owneth not POT.  
2) We owneth not any mentioned fast food joint/ restaurant.  
3) We really REALLY like FAST FOOD. NO offense and really, fast food is GOOD. Do not believe any POT character and whatever we have mangled them to say.  
4) NO, no one was fired/took a job leave when we wrote this.  
5) No, we not stupid. We just bored. Or cracked-up, take your pick.  
6) NO, we do NOT take responsibility for brain breakage.

Onward march.

Fast Food Fiction: Fudomine

"Fries. Coke. Fries. Coke. Fries. Coke-"

There was a soft slap to the upside of Kamio's drained head. He immediately jerked his head up. "What the hell was that for?"

"You're acting like a brain dead zombie," muttered Shinji who walked beside him.

"Not that you aren't one already," pointed out An with a teasing grin.

"An-chan!"

Tachibana who walked on his sister's left, smirked knowingly. "Algebra has you stumped, Kamio?"

"Stumped, stuffed and **_shot_**," groaned the boy as his shoulders drooped. "I can't take anymore 'x's and 'y's and whatever else alphabets Iemura-sensei wants to substitute on the damn blackboard!"

"And that's why you're repeating "fries" and "coke" like a broken record player?" inquired Ishida with a grin.

"Talk to the hand, Hadokyuu Math Genius," retorted Kamio, shoving his palm into Ishida's face.

The latter's doubles partner, Sakurai, sniggered. "Math Genius? Yeah right! The guy who decided that one plus two equaled to four in the last test?"

"S, shut up Sakurai!"

Mori and Uchimura both shared in the snickering. The latter spoke up. "Bad luck though, Kamio-kun. The usual burger joint's closed down for renovations. Heard it from Kawanaka yesterday."

The appalled, shocked and horrified expression, combined with a shrill kind of squeal suggested that maybe the rhythm freak had a kind of over-dependence on caffeinated soft drinks and over fried, diced potato oblongs.

"As usual, everything goes wrong for Kamio-kun when he needs it the most. In fact I think Kamio-kun's the reason why sometimes nothing goes right with me so I should probably stop playing tennis with Kamio-kun then I can get away from all his bad aura but he's among the better players in the team so I can't exactly avoid him and his obsession with rhythms and music and An-chan and he never seems able to ask her out which I can't understand why since it's so obvious she likes him the best out of us which is really unfair but no one said love or life was fair anyway…"

It was a good thing no one was paying attention to Shinji since Kamio, An or her brother would have severely maimed him for his mumblings. Instead, An was suggesting a new place to visit since it'd just opened up. It was only a few blocks further from their old burger joint.

"An-chan, you're a regular _lifesaver_," said Kamio appreciatively as they walked out the school gates. "And a pretty lifesaver at that, so it's a win-win situation!"

An giggled, her brother didn't hear since he was walking in front with Ishida, Mori, Uchimura and Sakurai rolled eyes and groaned at the corny lines while Shinji mumbled about Kamio's failing to be a Casanova and how An-chan didn't really deserve such a third-rate clown but he supposed that since Kamio was a good friend, he wasn't _that_ much of a third-rate clown, maybe he was a second-rate clown instead…

-

"Why would they name the place Burger King?"

"Because it's the king of burgers?"

"…that's dumb. How're you supposed to call a burger 'oo-sama'?"

"You're not supposed to take it literally, Uchimura."

"What're you having Kamio-ku-"

"I'll have the Double Mushroom Swiss Special, the large French Chicken set, and an extra large order of fries."

"…Kamio-kun, even _you_ can't be _that _hungry."

"Tachibana-san, you don't know what algebra does to a person's stomach."

"Apparently it causes a black hole."

"Just like Kamio-kun to overdo things, he always does even though it's unnecessary. Even I don't go to such extreme lengths and I'm the one who takes risks, hmm, maybe I should take the French Chicken set too since I like ham and chicken is good and France is a nice country but the beef burger also looks good but since I'm playing tennis, I shouldn't have such a heavy lunch but mom always says to make sure I eat properly…"

"Shinji-kun, what are you having?"

"…then both my sisters are always chubbier than me and I never understand it why they keep hitting me just because I tell things like it is and they ARE bigger sized than me which just shows how much food I get at home and Dad's so unfair whenever he brings back candy for them and not me just because I'm a guy but then again, maybe it's because I'm the oldest so I have to take responsibility…"

"He'll have Set One."

"Wait, An-chan, I don't really like mushrooms-"

"You're going to eat the Swiss Mushroom and you're going to LIKE it, Shinji-kun. That's that."

"…girls, always so authoritarian, I never thought An-chan would be like this because she's Tachibana-san's sister and she always takes care of us but it turns out she's like the other girls too- OW!"

"I _heard_ that 'authoritarian' remark."

-

"I'll trade you that pickle for this fry."

"That's not a fair trade, Sakurai! The pickle's so wide and the fry's so thin. I insist on TWO fries."

"When have you become so calculative, Mori?"

"Since he developed a crush on Yukiko-san from class 2-D and the girl happens to be the school's math genius…"

"Here, Uchimura, you might wanna **_chew_** that burger FASTER…!"

"Mori, you're gonna choke him if you shove that burger into his face. Stop that."

"Sorry Tachibana-san."

_Cough, cough. _"Tou**_chy_**…."

Gobble. Chew. Munch. Slurp. Swallow. Chew. Munch. Sluuuuurp. Chew.

"It's like seeing feeding time at the zoo."

"Grgh mrnngh mmhrh."

"What'd he say?"

"Something about mind your own business I think."

"Kamio, I'd like to mind my own business but I can't when you're acting like a starved hippo."

Giggle. "He's just like Momoshiro-kun – both have pits for stomachs."

"MMRGH NFGHH-"

"No talking with the mouth full."

"Grrgh mmngh ghmmng shhmng hggnm mhhghk grrknngh-"

"And Shinji, stop mumbling while you're eating. You're standing a good chance of choking on your burger."

"Surrngh tchrhsngh."

-

"Looks like everyone's outta drinks," noticed Ishida concernedly after about an hour and a half of talking, mumbling in Shinji's case, teasing, jibing, fry eating contests, coke slurping tournaments and short lived ketchup inhaling competition. Tachibana won the last one.

"I'm going to get refills. Anyone?"

"Thanks, Ishida," said Kamio with a grin as he handed over his empty cup. "Vanilla coke for me please."

Mori and Shinji both handed theirs over. "Coke for me."

"Coke for me too even though they say you can rot an entire tooth inside it if you leave it in a cupful for a week which I don't think anyone does since teeth are attached to your gums so there's no way any sane person's gonna dunk their teeth into a cupful of soft drinks…"

"I'll go with you, Ishida," offered Sakurai as he got up, taking up Uchimura's and the Tachibana siblings' cups along the way. "Be right back."

Uchimura went back to jibing Mori about his crush which Mori grew red faced and embarrassed about, protesting loudly. Shinji mumbled about the complexities of love (or a new formula for potato chips), An commented on how absolutely cute it was of Mori to react like that, Kamio stammering out a question if An-chan liked guys like that while Tachibana indulged in another chili laden fry, listening to his team members converse and the background of Shinji's droning.

It was nice to be out with the team like this, decided the captain with a small smile. He had had thoughts lately about how he would be leaving junior high soon and how in some inner, deep part of him, he feared that he might lose touch with the Fudomine Chuu team. In fact, he was concerned about their camaraderie when they _all_ left junior high.

But judging from the laughing faces of An, Uchimura, Mori and Kamio, plus the tiny smile of Shinji, it was quite likely that their camaraderie was in no danger.

Just as long as there was a fast food joint and friendship between them… the camaraderie of Fudomine's tennis team would always be there.

"AAH! ISHIDA, NO-"

**(CRACK!)**

**(SPLOOOSH!)**

"HELP! TACHIBANA-SAN! Ishida accidentally 'Hadokyuu'-ed the soft drink dispenser and it's gushing orange soda everywhere!" screamed Sakurai as he ran out, arms flailing in panic.

Everyone immediately got to their feet, running towards the dispenser where poor Ishida was trying to stuff the cracked part with his bandanna, to no avail. Tachibana sighed, thinking that this friendship also meant sticking around when things got broken, before wracking his brain with how to pay for the damages and how to fix it.

_End._


	3. KFC: Hyotei

(By Imaginator)

All previous disclaimers apply.

_KFC: Hyotei_

Atobe wrinkled his nose in barely-concealed disgust. "So, why are we at this…place again?" He glanced at the brightly lit neon sign above the establishment, which read, in clear red letters, _KFC_.

"Because," Oshitari said, with an amused look, "it's good for team morale. Also, I highly doubt everyone can afford to go to your place of dining cuisine."

"Damn right we can't," muttered Shishido a few paces ahead. "You'd have to be a f-" He caught Ohtori's eye and coughed reluctantly. "Sorry."

Gakuto bounced up to the counter and practically did a vault over a chair as Kabaji trudged behind them, Jirou slung over his shoulder, generously ignoring the strange stares they were getting from the nearby patrons. "Will you slowpokes hurry up already? I'm starving."

"Gekokujou…"

"Patience, Gakuto, patience." Oshitari easily pulled his wallet out from his pants pocket and casually rifled through the notes inside. Shishido and Ohtori were already at the counters, placing their respective orders even as Kabaji sat a snoring Jirou down at the nearest table. Atobe approached the nearest cashier, giving her the most charming smile he could pull off. After all, if Ore-sama must go through with this, ore-sama would, at least, pull it off with _style_.

The smirk promptly vanished as his eyes scanned the (very limited and far, far below Ore-sama's refined taste) and narrowed dangerously.

"Excuse me, but Ore-sama refuses to consume such plebeian edibles."

Shishido raised his head to stare in disbelief, his own tray piled high with said 'plebeian edibles'. "You've got to be joking."

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Ore-sama never jokes around with matters concerning ore-sama's palate."

"Dammit, Atobe, it's CHICKEN! Don't tell me you've never eaten _chicken_."

"Ore-sama does not merely eat any 'chicken'; only the finest _chicken cordon bleu_ imported from Rhode Island."

"Why you bloody-"

"Shishido-san!" Ohtori said in an appalled tone, "there are _small children around_."

Bravely resisting the urge to either slam his head (or his esteemed captain's head) into the marble counter, Shishido picked up his tray with as much dignity as he could muster and stalked back to the table.

…But not before he had 'accidentally' dropped a few ice cubes on the floor, right in the path of Atobe behind his back.

Gakuto, who was industriously ordering everything that interested him, turned to Oshitari. "Ne, Yuushi, you're paying for me…right?"

Oshitari eyed the piles of stacked boxes on Gakuto's tray and mentally tallied his expenses with a resigned sigh. "Oh fine…but this is the absolutely last time, alright?"

"I know, I know."

Meanwhile…on Atobe's side…

"Can you even be sure that these…" Atobe jabbed his finger accusingly at the mush in the plastic tub before him, "potatoes are even REAL potatoes?"

As the flustered cashier attempted to answer, Hiyoshi, who had been patiently waiting in line behind Atobe, decided that perhaps switching counters would be a better option. He took one step to the left…

…And promptly slipped on the ice cubes on the floor, careening straight into Gakuto, who'd just come away from the counter with his tray.

…Which sent Gakuto's food airborne until rules of gravity dictated the need for them to come down…

….with a satisfying splat on Shishido's head.

It took a while for the sensation of cold vegetable salad and soft mush to trickle down Shishido's neck before he computed that, somehow, there was food on his head (and most of his back). Ohtori stared in speechless shock at his sempai, and even Atobe noticed the deadly still of the whole place and turned to see what the matter was.

Gakuto, torn between fear for his well-being and the irrepressible urge to snicker, produced an odd-snort-squeak which would sound more natural coming from a guinea pig.

Shishido stood, very slowly. And turned, equally slowly.

Because Hell hath no fury like a Hyotei regular enraged. Really.

"_**Who**…_"

Gakuto wanted to live to a ripe old age, have three kids and maybe at least bungee-jump off Blouwkraanz Bridge before he died. So…"He did it."

Hiyoshi's eyes widened and he took a step back as Gakuto's incriminating finger swung in his direction. "Hey! It was the ic-"

As Shishido's death-glare swung in his direction, a bored sigh echoed throughout the room. "Really, Shishido, I don't see why you're so upset. After all," he smirked a little, "I believe you were the one who opted to come here in the first place, ahn?"

Shishido's eyes narrowed into slits so small it was a wonder if he could see out of them at all. Ohtori, sensing a confrontation not unlike those old Western movies, shifted uneasily in his seat. "Shishido-san…"

A hand on his shoulder silenced him as Oshitari leant down, a glint flashing across his spectacles. "Perhaps we shouldn't be so hasty now, ne Ohtori-kun?"

For a moment, an invisible wind blew throughout the air-conditioned fast-food centre and the sounds of Spanish guitars could almost be heard playing.

Then, Shishido reached up, scooped a handful of food off his head and chucked it straight at Atobe.

There was a flash, and a series of gasps (from everyone in the room) as the salad splattered harmlessly off a brown plastic tray. As all eyes snapped to the new figure who lowered said tray, Atobe smirked.

"Well done…Kabaji."

The large boy nodded. "Usu."

Delicately taking a spoon and scooping mashed potato from the tub on the counter, Atobe took aim and fired.

Unfortunately, a spoon is not a tennis racket, and mashed potatoes did not, in any way, resemble a tennis ball. As famed as Atobe was for his pinpoint accuracy on court, the same couldn't quite be said for his precision in slinging food.

The blob of mash potato landed squarely on Gakuto's forehead.

The redhead shrieked incoherently and snatched up a fallen roll on the ground and flung it carelessly, where in bounced off Hiyoshi's head to land in Ohtori's lap.

Before everyone could quite figure out how it happened, they were in the middle of a war-zone, where much mush, remnants of cabbage and mayonnaise and the occasional drumstick became one's choice weapons.

Wielding brown trays, Ohtori and Oshitari began shielding innocent customers as they gestured them out through a means of escape: the front door, the latter being slightly choosy to only escort those of the opposite gender with shapely enough legs.

The others? Too engrossed in yelling at each other, ducking 'missiles' and chucking them back in retaliation to notice. Somewhere within the mess, Gakuto did a neat back-flip to avoid Shishido's chicken wing, only to be bombed by Hiyoshi's wedges. Kabaji, still with his tray, efficiently blocked Atobe as the Ore-sama used his spoon as a catapult, calmly accessing his target before shooting his food.

Until a stray bit of salad somehow found its way unto his head.

The frazzled staff had already made good their escape via back door. They would have to be given two bonuses and a pay raise before they even attempt returning to work.

And in the midst of all the madness, Jirou yawned and stretched, before beaming sleepily. "Hey, anyone's got any food? I'm hungry."

_owari_


	4. Unnamed Restaurant: Seigaku

(by Yuncyn)

All previous disclaimers apply.

Fast Fod Fiction: Seishun Gakuen

-

"Ah, Fuji, Momo! There you are. We were starting to worry a bit," was Oishi's greeting as Fuji Yumiko drove off from the café in town. Everyone else, including Horio, Kachiro and Katsuo – made personal assistants to Inui and therefore valid for invitations to dinner – was already there in several degrees of dressed formality.

At least no one was wearing a tie, noted Momo. Still, all of them were dressed more formally than they normally would because Ryuzaki-sensei had been kind enough to donate her lucky draw grand prize to the tennis team: a special certificate entitling them to one free meal for any amount of people at a particular restaurant downtown. A particular, expensive restaurant that required some dressing up. According to Oishi-fukubuchou, it would be a good opportunity to boost team camaraderie and morale. Therefore, here they all were.

"Sorry for making you wait," replied Fuji, looking over at everyone. "Ah, Ryuzaki and Osakada, don't you two look lovely tonight?"

Sakuno and Tomoka respectively blushed and cheerily thanked their senior for the compliment. Momoshiro made haste to second Fuji's observations, not-so-subtly nudging Ryoma to do the same. The latter merely muttered what sounded like a "mada mada" and seemed to miss the presence of his cap.

"Let's go," were the simple words of the captain, recognizing the beginnings of what would be a free-for-all teasing session since Eiji was opening his mouth to join in the cajoling and Tomoka was fawning over the non existent compliment Ryoma had just paid them. It would never end and they'd never get to eat.

It took a while but eventually Tezuka did get the message across to the maitre d' that a party of fourteen would require seating.

The man, accustomed to fur coated women and men who oozed the very air of money, eyed the entire group of young, rambunctious and not likely to have the air of money, teenagers dubiously.

Of course, there _were_ certain exceptions to the rule, now that the maitre d' remembered just who had graced his restaurant the week before. But those exceptions were few and far between.

So until these young people could come up with some kind of reason for being here or some kind of proof that they were tied to the young (and fabulously rich) Atobe Keigo, he would have to handle the riff raff.

"You do realize, sir that this is a… uh… rather _exclusive_ dining establishment."

Tezuka carefully measured the lifting of his eyebrow. "We have… this."

A piece of the, to the maitre d who eyed it with dismayed resignation, unfortunate paper that indeed confirmed they would be able to dine at the restaurant, for free no less, was held up.

"Ah, very well then. Right this way, ladies and gentlemen…"

As the maitre d' watched the fourteen teenagers tumble, scramble and basically surge their way inside, he sighed deeply. While it wasn't very likely, he _prayed_ his shift would be over before they caused any chaos that might cost him his job.

-

"What's up with the multiple knives? Do they expect us to kill someone with these things?"

"Momo, please lower your voice…! And those are for different meats and fish. Eiji, before you ask, the forks serve the same purpose."

"I don't see the point of having so much stuff to use! It's just MEAT. You stick a fork in it, you cut it up with the knife, you pop it in your mouth! Simple stuff!"

"Boor."

"What was that, mamushi!?"

"BOOR, you idiot. BOOR."

"What's THAT supposed to mean!?"

"It means you don't have any proper dining table manners, dammit!"

"And I suppose you're Queen Elizabeth herself, ya great big know it all!?"

"YOU-"

"**_Kaidoh. Momoshiro._**"

In addition to the appalled stares they were receiving from the other diners, both second years also got the full force of Tezuka-buchou's Patented Glare of Steel and Laser Beams Designed to Slice Titanium and Diamond. It was like pure magic – they sat down and shut up. Albeit trying to kill each other via respective glares of hatred and indignity but they were silent.

…for all of ten minutes, but then that's a different story.

Eiji looked glumly at the utensils that sat so innocently before him. He could have sworn he heard his crystal glass of pure Evian mineral water snicker mockingly in his face for his lack of experience around… "rich people eating patterns."

"Ne, Oishi… which fork am I supposed to use?"

"That one, Eiji," pointed out his doubles partner helpfully.

"But that's only if you're ordering red meat," pointed out Sakuno, just as equally eager to be helpful to her senpai. "If you're eating fish, then you use that one to the right."

Oishi nodded approvingly. "That's right. However, if you're eating vegetables, then it's okay to use the meat fork, I think. That one's for dessert, since it's smaller…"

The vice captain trailed off, noticing the very glazed over look in Eiji's eyes. "Uh… why don't you just use the meat fork for everything then? No one's going to scold you at this table if you use the wrong fork."

Taka-san looked as equally lost when the menus eventually arrived. While Horio instructed Ryoma, Katsuo and Kachiro in the ways of choosing the right food to eat at an exclusive Western restaurant that served purely French, Italian and German dishes, Tomoka loudly contesting everything he said and Sakuno busy trying to get her friend to turn down her volume, the apprentice sushi chef wished fervently for something familiar to jump out and save him from gastronomic hell.

"Uh… does anyone know how to order…?"

Just at that moment, Horio spoke up with such authority that it almost matched that of Momoshiro's when he first claimed doubles were his specialty.

"I'm telling you: you guys ought to follow my lead and order this… this…" there was a quick check of the menu. "As-car-got! I'm tellin' you: it's a French delicacy and it's a real CRIME if you guys don't get it while you're here!"

"But, Horio-kun-" began Kachiro rather tentatively.

Horio was not about to be put off. He proceeded to bulldoze over his peer's hesitant suggestions that perhaps he might not be all that correct since the guy couldn't even get a decent grade for English much less French. "Well, if _you _guys wanna miss out on something great, go ahead. I'M gonna order that is-carg-ot and have a good time. Don't come crying to me when you find your stuff doesn't taste half as delicious!"

Kachiro and Katsuo exchanged looks before glancing at Ryoma. Taka-san who had been listening with one ear, also glanced over at the young tennis player.

Ryoma merely looked up from where he'd been perusing the menu (and ignoring Horio), beckoned the waiter over and placed his order for a German sausage platter.

"I'll have what he's having," said Kachiro and Katsuo immediately.

"Make that four," said Taka-san quickly in relief.

Horio was mightily offended. Even more so when the girls decided to have the fettuccine and spaghetti instead of his recommendation.

"Chickens! You just don't know how to appreciate good food!" He turned imperiously to the waiter. "**I'll** have the… the… that French Essy thing!"

The waiter's pen hovered over his notepad. Having had several years' experience in the field of taking orders, his brain took a few seconds to process what this strange customer was attempting to order. "….does sir mean the escargot?"

"**Yes! **The ass-cart-go!"

The waiter duly noted the order, tuning out his ears to what he thought the customer might have said and the other restaurant patrons who knew English well, turning to glare disapprovingly at the very rude and obviously uncouth teenager.

When he reached Inui on the other hand, it was like a different yet more bizarre world. The waiter was questioned on the texture, cooking method, and nutrition information on the sole filet cooked in mushroom sauce. And whatever he was able to answer was all calmly taken down in a green notebook.

"Hmmm… there's a rough calculation of 75.3 satisfaction with this meal, compared to the 68.2 if I choose the roast canard. Yes, the sole filet it is."

"Very good, sir."

"Oh, and some blue cheese. For dessert."

"…yes, sir."

Fuji looked up at that, looking straight at Inui who didn't give away any hint of what he was thinking.

The genius smiled. "I didn't know you liked blue cheese too, Inui. I was about to order that."

Now, the dim light of the restaurant seemed to gleam off the data man's glasses. "And now?"

"I think I might just go through with it." The smile widened. By an inch. "One can't have too much blue cheese after all."

"…indeed."

Tezuka, who'd just finished ordering South German spatzle, gave both Inui and Fuji a warning look. _He _knew about the qualities of blue cheese. Both returned expressions of a poker face and a placid smile. The captain resigned himself to a small sigh, knowing full well that before the evening was through, they'd be banned from this restaurant for the rest of their lives.

He might as well have one last good meal before it happened.

"Um, I'll have the… this uh… this thing here."

The waiter looked over Eiji's shoulder at where he was pointing at the menu and promptly nodded, scribbling busily on his order taking pad. Oishi decided to go for the couscous and after he'd ordered, made sure everyone else had ordered too, he smiled and said yes, that would indeed be all. After a repetition of the orders that only the vice captain paid attention to, the waiter hurried off to the kitchen.

It was certainly an eclectic mix of orders…

-

There was as much peace as could be expected (Momo attempted to toss a bread roll at Ryoma, missed completely and instead it bounced off Tomoka on the nose. He was given a reprimanding look from Oishi who insisted food shouldn't be used in that manner and it could poke someone's eye out. "But it's a _bread roll,_" repeated Momo in confusion) before the food arrived.

"….what…is….this?"

Fuji looked up from his ravioli and smiled widely. "Well done, Eiji. I think you ordered the goose _foie gras_."

Eiji stared at the dish in front of his eyes. "Goose? Fu-wa? Gra?"

"Goose _foie gras_. It's an expensive French gourmet treat."

"….expensive?" squeaked Eiji again, eyes going wider. "_Goose? _L, like the one in the English nursery rhymes?"

Fuji smiled. "Just try it, Eiji. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Hesitantly, and slowly, Eiji picked up a fork and poked it experimentally.

It didn't move. That was a good sign.

He cut a tiny bit out. Still not moving.

Eiji bravely took a bite and chewing with his eyes squeezed shut, found that the taste was… delicious. Very delicious in fact.

"Hey, this is good! It's real smooth and kinda just melts in your mouth…!"

With much gusto, Eiji dove into his meal with many comments on the excellent taste and how he'd never expected goose foie gras to taste so good (the fact that he'd never expected anything from it was irrelevant.)

At the other end of the table, where Katsuo and Kachiro were complimenting Ryoma on his choice of food (and thanking their lucky stars that they were wise enough to follow the tennis prince), and Taka-san was wondering if there could ever be a blend of sauerkraut sushi, Sakuno happened to look up from her spaghetti Bolognese.

"Oh, Horio-kun, your food hasn't come yet?"

Horio puffed up his chest. "Of course it hasn't. Is-cart-got takes a long time to prepare, don'tcha know? It's gonna taste like _Heaven._"

Tomoka just rolled her eyes since her mouth was full of fettuccine.

Just then, Momoshiro who'd taken a few bites already of his steak au poivre nodded in slow approval. "Yeah, this ain't bad, ain't bad at all… it's missing something though…" There were a few more seconds of thoughtful chewing before his mental light bulb shone with enlightenment. "Oh, I know! Waiter!"

A suited waiter duly sauntered over. "Yes sir?"

"Could I have some ketchup?"

The placid expression on the waiter's face froze. "…sir wants… ketchup."

Momoshiro nodded happily, blissfully ignorant of the grievous insult he'd just inflicted within a gourmet restaurant. And the appalled look on Oishi's face, the twitch of Tezuka's eyebrow and the mild frown of Inui. "Yeah, ketchup. Y'know, tomato sauce?"

"…………………….**_ketchup_**?"

The second year raised an eyebrow. "Ket-chup. To-ma-to sauce. Sauce that comes from squished tomatoes."

In a daze, the waiter nodded and headed to the kitchen. Behind him, Momoshiro looked confusedly at his companions. "What's with that guy? _Anyone _knows what ketchup is."

Oishi resisted palming his forehead. "Momo, you just insulted this restaurant. More specifically, the chefs."

"…what?"

Kaidoh glowered at his fellow second year, determined now to list Momoshiro Takeshi as the King of Morons Who Shouldn't Be Alive Due To Utter Stupidity in his personal inventory of people, as he took a spoonful of cream of mushroom soup. "_Idiot."_

"_What?! _I didn't say NOTHIN' about this restaurant! WHEN did I insult anyone?!" demanded Momoshiro indignantly.

"In a gourmet restaurant, if one orders ketchup or chili sauce, it's an insult to the chef because it implies that the chef is incapable of making the food taste excellent on its own without help from other foreign sauces," explained Inui, pushing his glasses upwards slightly. "In other words, it'd be like saying your Dunk Smash is good but not good enough to beat… oh say… Dan Taichi from Yamabuki. With all due respect to Dan-san."

There was a LONG, _very long_, silence. The kind where there is no dialogue, only the clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates.

Eventually, there was some response from a very pale Momoshiro.

"…oh."

While Momoshiro entertained thoughts of an irate chef wielding a cleaver, like that one in that western cartoon about a mermaid and her crab friend, Horio's meal had just arrived. On a silver tray with a gleaming silver cover.

Beaming insufferably smugly at his friends as the tray was set down, Horio looked down just as the domed cover was taken away.

And eyes that were already wide, became even wider. Perhaps not to the size of saucepans but considerably wide enough to make Taka-san, Kachiro and Katsuo feel even more grateful that they had followed Ryoma's choice of cuisine.

For there, swimming in sauce on a pristine white porcelain plate, were… shells. Snail shells.

"… wh… what… is this?" squeaked the One of Two Years Tennis Experience.

"Escargot, sir. As you ordered," informed the server ever so helpfully before walking away, job thought done.

"Oh, you and Eiji must share some kind of hidden taste for expensive food we never knew about, Horio," commented Fuji calmly as he delicately wiped his mouth. "Snails are just as much a delicacy as stuffed goose liver."

There were two simultaneous _chokes_.

"_**Stuffed goose liver?!"**_

"_**SNAILS?!"**_

Fuji practically beamed. "Both are regarded as the pinnacle of French cuisine, you know. I commend the two of you on your excellent taste."

"…eeu-"

Eiji didn't have time to complete his expression of disgust as he shoved his chair back and sprinted for the men's restroom, perhaps beating even Kamio Akira's record. Horio looked limply at his meal of land snails and bemoaned his fate.

And while all that was going on, a chef of the restaurant, dressed in his white uniform and a tall hat, burst the double doors open, spluttering in Japanese with a heavy French accent. The waiters and assistant cooks tried to restrain him but a chef scorned was a chef on a mission: a mission to find his insulter and demand justice. If necessary, with a heavily applied rolling pin or a long, sharp bread knife.

The insulter he was looking for was currently hiding under the table, begging Taka-san and Sakuno not to say anything.

"VHERE IZ HE?! Vhere iz ze one who inzultz my cookeeng?!"

"Ahh, sir, forgive the interruption, but your orders of blue cheese are here…"

Inui took a whiff. Fuji took a whiff.

The _entire table_ got a whiff.

"PHEW, Inui-senpai, what did you ORDER?!" exclaimed Tomoka in audible disgust. "It smells like that Chinese Smelly Tofu!!"

"Or like something that _died _in the smelly tofu," dryly commented Ryoma from his end of the table with a pinched nose and a frown.

"VHHAT!? Zomeone DAREZ to inzult ze culinary skeellz of Chef Von Pierre?!" The chef who now had murder most foul in his eyes, stormed coldly up to the offending table. "How dare you… you… uneducated CHEELDREN inzult me?! Out, I say! OUT of my restaurant!"

The German and Italian chefs were by his side, both doing their best to placate their very insulted colleague. "Von Pierre, please, calm down…"

"I VILL NOT CALM DOWN! CHEF VON PIERRE ZHALL NOT CALM DOWN UNTIL HE ZEEZ JUZTEECE DONE!!"

Tezuka calmly put his napkin down and despite the angry shouting that had now turned into complete French expletives, spoke to the waiter. "Please pack that escargot as quickly as you can. We are leaving since almost everyone has finished." He turned to the others. "Fuji, Inui, wrap up that cheese if you want. Oishi, get Eiji from the bathroom. Momoshiro, get out from under the table. Horio, you're on ball collecting duty for three weeks."

Those who were mentioned moved to their tasks. The others who were not, got out of their chairs and headed for the exits like they were in a fire drill exercise. There were no protests.

Except for Chef Von Pierre who demanded this uneducated child know his place and not talk out of turn to people who knew better.

Tezuka regarded the aggrieved chef with his Newly Patented Tezuka Kunimitsu Glare of Long Suffering Patience That Will Soon Snap If Some People Didn't Keep Quiet Soon And Then You Will Know **_Pain_**.

Chef Von Pierre shut up.

-

"Now _this_ is a good place to eat. No crazy chefs, no snooty waiters, no strange food…"

Momoshiro breathed in deep, as if inhaling the good old reliable scent of fast food as they approached one of the more popular joints in Seishun.

"Just good old fashioned _chicken _and_ fries."_

Everyone else somehow found it in themselves to agree. Fuji and Inui had to be sworn not to open up their serviette wrapped cheese before they went in.

And were met by an appalling scene of what had appeared to be a gastronomic catastrophe. Someone had apparently really _not_ liked the food. They saw remnants of coleslaw, mashed potatoes, chicken… even burger buns and shreds of cabbage were all over the floor, tables, chairs and even splattered against the window. The staff was busy with mops, brooms and wet cloths, most with tired, resigned and irritated expressions on their faces.

The manager stepped up apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry but we're closed for the time being."

"…what happened?" asked Oishi concernedly.

There was a long sigh. "Some junior high kids started a food fight and before you knew it, the whole place is empty and a complete mess." He held up an envelope. "Although we did find some compensation after the entire thing ended… in any case, thank you for your would be-patronage."

"Ahhh, you're welcome. Good luck," replied Oishi before the entire team turned and walked away, wondering who those junior high school kids could have been.

And, to Tezuka's chagrin, they themselves had been _extremely_ close to that kind of explosive situation.

He sighed. If he had to bet, Yukimura, Sanada, Tachibana… even _Atobe_ wouldn't have this kind of problems.

…

Then again, thought Tezuka, he wasn't a betting man to begin with.

_-_

_End._

**A/N:**No offense meant to any formal restaurants or the French, whether chefs or not. This was all in the name of humour, and I know for a fact that there are plenty of nice French people _and_ perfectly well mannered French chefs out there. Thus, I thank you for your good humour and your patience.


End file.
